Latte In Life
by ThrobbingCinnamon
Summary: Arthur has been overworked, and is in dire need of some refreshment.  So how could he say no when the handsom, charming Eames turns up at his doorstep, brandishing a piping-hot Hazelnut Latte?


Latte In Life

Eames sighed deeply, his stomach twisting itself into a huge knot. This was a mistake; he shouldn't have bothered. It was too much of a risk. Deftly, he drummed his fingers against the warm coffee cup. He stared at the door, waiting for the tall, beautifully aloof man to open it. He could see his sillhouette strutting confidently towards the door; God it was gorgeous.

Eames had brought Arthur's favourite heated beverage, a hazelnut latte, venti of course. Years of quiet observation and silent pining had taught him of the mysteriously nonchalant man's quirks, mannerisms and routines. His neurotic tendencies just made him more adorable. Once again, Eames felt a nervous pang deep within him, in the pit of his abdomen. Would his abrupt offering offend or enthral Arthur? Would it jeopardise their friendship, or would it blossom into something more?

Arthur heard the light tapping at his front door and groaned; he was underdressed for visitors. Sighing lightly, he ran a hand through his curly, dishevelled hair, in a last attempt to make it presentable. He stood up, padding quietly towards the door, his mind imagining all different scenarios that could arise upon his opening of the door. God he needed a coffee. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up Arthur's foot as he slammed it into a misplaced table.

"FUCK!" Arthur growled, as any sane person does upon stubbing their toe.

Eames' body held erect as he heard Arthur scream profanities loudly. Oh god how he wished he was the cause of this expletive. It sounded like he'd hurt himself, it hadn't occured to him that Arthur may have only just woken up. At least he'd brought coffee. Briefly, he considered running back down the street, like a child playing a riviting game of "Chapdoor Runnaway". Maybe he could drink the latte himself...

Eames dismissed this thought, he didn't care much for hazelnuts. He also didn't care for this unresolved, insatiable lust he held for the point man. Without warning, the door flew open.

Arthur stared incredulously for less than second, before composing himself in that eery manner he always did. It was Eames...

iWhy was it Eames? /i

"Eames...Why are you here? Has something happened to Cobb? Don't tell me Yusuf's lost his cat again!" The point man was delirious; sleep-deprived, no doubt. Eames found it so painfully charming.

"Well, I came to bring you coffee. But after your abrasive greeting, I don't think I'll bother." The londoner smirked casually, in that way that drove Arthur wild.

Arthur stared at the cup in Eames' hand. "Is-is that hazelnut?" He asked, his voice wavering slightly. Eames smiled and nodded. Arthur snatched the cup from the forger's hand. "I-I need to be alone, now." He said, refusing to remove his gaze from the cup of sweet, tantalizing, seductive coffee...  
>Eames looked taken aback. "Pardon?" He cocked his head to the side. Arthur closed the door.<p>

"Now we're alone..." he whispered to the cup. "I can't wait to swallow you up." He grinned sheepishly as the coffee winked coquettishly.

Eames couldn't believe what had just happened. He'd been blown off? By a cup of fucking icoffee/i? Slightly dazed, he wandered down the street, alone, dejected, unloved...

Then it hit him. Arthur must have an eating disorder, one that he'd kept quiet for all these years. No wonder he was so slim, those perfect hips jutting out effeminately. Eames would leave it for today, but tomorrow he'd bring it up, give him some advice pamphlets or some shit, help him through his struggle. Eames wanted to be there for Arthur, to give him the love and affection he deserved. The love and affection Eames iwanted/i to give him.

Arthur stared down at the meticulously beautiful liquid, its shimmering surface teasing him onwards. Slowly, seductively, Arthur's wet, elusive tongue caressed the rim of the disgracefully uncapped coffee. Didn't it have any decency? But Arthur wasn't complaining...Lightly, but with enough force, Arthur pushed the coffee cup down to his groin. He slowly rubbed it on his bulging manhood. He keened quietly, but it wasn't enough.

He removed his pants and immediately felt free as his cock rose from its cotton prison. The coffee set about his erection straight away. Arthur gasped as the soft, warm liquid lapped across his tenderness. Arthur threw his head back in ecstasy, making low, moaning sounds as pleasure washed over him. Literally. He then slowly, but surely dipped his now throbbing dick into the steaming latte, like some type of erotic hobnob. The cup seemed to read his thoughts, gasping and shouting "Oh Mr. Mcvitie, you're so good!"

"You like this don't you? You milky, little slut. Look at you, your milk is curdling and I haven't even touched your foam yet. Say it, say your a slutty hazlenut!" Screamed Arthur, in the throes of passion.  
>"I'm a-a slutty hazlenut!" Gurgled the coffee. Arthur growled loudly. He detached his pulsating penis then dropped it back in, he was a double dunker true to form. He clenched his jaw, feeling something stirring deep inside him. He knew it was happening. The coffee gasped loudly, implying it, too, was close to the edge. Arthur slammed deep inside it one last time, coffee flying out from the side of the cup, accompinied by a heavy dose of semen. Arthur groaned contentedly, like a purring cat, who'd got the cream. But it was the coffee who'd got the cream, really.<p>

Arthur looked down at the coffee cup. It was a mess, he chuckled at it quietly. On a sudden, coffee related whim he knelt down to lick it off the floor. It tasted delicous. He could hear ihis/i coffee sighing quietly, happily. It was a shame he'd finished it now. Being in the dream bussiness meant you could only really have one night stands with your lattes. Which was regrettable, but necessary.

Quietly, Arthur padded through to the bathroom. He needed a shower, to wash off that weird smell that accompanied coffee relations.

Arthur walked across the warehouse towards Eames. "Hey." He smiled softly, dimples forming in his cheeks. "Thanks for that coffee yesterday, I really needed it." Eames' heart lept.  
>"It was nothing, really." He felt himself blush as Arthur leaned it, pecking him lightly on the cheek. His lips were cold and soft and beautiful. But there was a weird smell around Arthur that he'd obviously tried to mask with expensive aftershave. It smelled like off milk. Off milk and something...Nutty.<br>"I brought you these..." Eames handed Arthur the pamphlets. Arthur looked confused, his brow furrowing. It was stunning. "What are these for?" He asked.  
>"I think you have a-uhm, coffee problem..." Eames said shyly, before turning and striding in the opposite direction, leaving Arthur to stand there, the tips of his ears flushing pink. iEames knows? Oh God, Eames knows...i


End file.
